


Blizzard

by FoxyEgg



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Animalistic, Art, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canon-Typical Violence, Digital Art, Gen, M/M, Monsters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please Kill Me, Romance is more implied early on but then I'm hopping on shoving it in more, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyEgg/pseuds/FoxyEgg
Summary: "Let's change the game, hm, pal?".:AU where Wilson's a monster and now part of the Constant's ecosystem:.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

> Art is included with this story, but I never said it would be good.
> 
> Shits whack right now so let's suffer together.

Connecting art:

Wilson could feel the cold air seep through the sinkholes and his tiredness slip away. He clawed through the ground, arriving on the surface to see the regular: white snow. He walked on his hooved feet, listening to the crack of each tree limb he pushed away. His stomach rumbled, his mind awakening from hibernation mode. 

There weren't many things that could fill him, since most things were only small and well, human sized. Birds were easy now since he could just snatch them out of the air. Deerclops or fish were best since deerclops were large and fish were easy to find in large numbers. He longed for something other than meat, but alas, he can only wish.

Wilson's about as big as a deerclops, maybe slightly smaller with a less fluffy build and hunched. They were both extremely close in looks, maybe Maxwell thought about the deerclops when changing Wilson? He's not sure.

Not wanting to linger on that any longer, Wilson followed a man-made trail. He wonders if maybe he'll find a koalaphant, or maybe a Varg? Those are great hound famers for monster meat. He sniffed, the crisp air is filled with all types of different aromas. If he went west, he might find a koalaphant. Heading west, Wilson pondered.

He thinks he ponders way too much. Was it worth it? Will he ever get home now?

Seeing the tell-tale pale-pink of the koalaphant made Wilson stop thinking of that. He was large, so in turn, slow. Hunting was so stupid sometimes and he feels like this is one of those sometimes. 

Advancing towards the fluffy meat, Wilson's hands at the ready to strike. The thing turned around, humphing and quickly running away. He just couldn't reach it! Why in the world are these so quick! Wilson gave chase, tailing behind it as he swung, the few moments where he paused leaving enough time for the koalaphant to dodge. He huffed, the air around his nostrils puffing up to white.

Wilson skidded to a stop as he saw a woman come out of the tree line. The confusion clear on both of their faces. 

She screamed, " gö tö Valhalla, beast!"

Wilson hissed, getting into a stance as she sprinted towards him, narrowly dodging his swipe. She lodged her spear into his arm as it swung past, staying in his arm as it came back to his body. Showing his teeth, Wilson let out a loud scream, threatening anything close. The woman yelled a battle cry back, taking out another spear from her belt.

Wilson swiped once again, but came around a second time with his other arm, successfully fooling the woman. His hit made her body go flying into a tree, the blow taking all of her air out of her lungs. She growled, getting back up and running.

Wilson, blinded by rage, followed, growling and swiping each and every tree and boulder out of his path. 

The woman led him to a camp, where she called, "everyöne löök öut!" 

Wilson swiped once again, letting out a loud growl, she threw herself onto the ground, jumping back up once Wilson finished his swipe. 

Other's came running out, spears and log suits in tow. Wilson let out a shriek, rushing forward and trucking over their drying racks and tents. The group threw spears and ham bats, spears landing and lodging themselves into his body, some so deep that the ends were just barely poking out.

Too much damage, too much damage. Wilson curled back his lips, roaring as he scraped through the dirt. One he reached the caves, he hooked his fingers between the layer of dirt and the stone roof of the caves to swing down onto his feet, limping away. 

The bunny men were fast asleep, so there's the silver lining. Wilson collapsed, dipping his arm into the pond, using the algae on the side to stick the skin together. He lifted his heavy body, stumbling to his base. It's just a nest with a few bobs and bits scattered around. He had cleaned and fixed five or so clockworks, they now sit around his base, killing wandering spiders and bats.

This was one of those nights where none such occurred, leaving him to rest and recover. One knight limped over to his arm (Wilson wasn't ever able to fix that one's leg) and whinnied in it's metallic way.

Wilson lifted his foggy head, cooing at the clockwork. It let out a small crackle as it returned to the pile of it's family of rooks and bishops. Wilson peeled off the algae on his arm and licked the wound. It felt much better, the stinging subsiding as his saliva kicked it.

It was strange, his saliva could numb wounds, maybe he could numb entire prey if he bit them and spit all over them.

'Gross,' Wilson thought as he covered the wound back up.

Wilson blinked slowly, watching as the clockworks chattered about something or another. Something fell into his eye. He yelped, shooting up and blinking rapidly. He looked up at the ceiling as another rumble shook the caves. He covered his head with his arm, sniffing out for the source.

Perhaps a large beefalo herd attacking hounds? Whatever, isn't his problem after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions? Feel free to ask on here or on my Tumblr, Art Abomination!


End file.
